Part 3

Hecate took a few steps into the chamber, glaring at everyone still too dumbfounded to run. The cultists had been expecting whatever a demon lord was in their imagination. Probably something with horns and hell fire. What they got was a beautiful woman ready to consume their souls. Gullinkambi was the only one with any sense of brains and it had backed itself into a corner, silent as a whore in church.

“Which one of you owns that fucking bird?” she repeated.

Mikami still had Solomon’s Band in his hand. “You have answered our call,” he said. “We called across the veil for a being of great power. One who commands death and walks between worlds.” Hecate’s eyes moved to the altar. She noticed the dead chicken and its blood dripping into the circle beneath her feet. Mikami lifted the Band. “By the authority given to Solomon, mankind once commanded those who—”

Hecate grabbed the man by the throat and slowly lifted him off the ground. Gullinkambi made a quiet clucking sound from the altar. “Noisy maggot.” She swung Mikami.

His body hit the altar with a very audible crack. Gullinkambi disappeared beneath him with a burst of gold feathers and one final squawk. The Band flew from Mikami’s hand, bounced across the concrete and vanished beneath one of the folding tables outside the chamber.

Hecate looked down at what remained of Mikami and the rooster. “Much better.”

That was when panic ensued. The cultists fought each other to escape through the two narrow exits. The nearest one reached the blast door before the shadows beneath their feet stretched backward. A moment later, his spine snapped and his body nearly came apart at the waist, held together by little more than skin and muscle. Another made it two steps farther before his own shadow climbed his legs and dragged him back into the chamber. Hecate merely raised one hand and darkness consumed both exits, preventing even the dim light from the fallen flashlight from escaping.

That was around the time I stopped watching. I came through the blast door with my sigil already burning across my palm and drove both hands forward. The air cracked and the spell hit Hecate in the side with enough force to send most things flying.

Hecate only took half a step back. “Head for the exits!” I shouted as I slammed my palm against the floor and forced mana into the ritual circle. Blue light raced through the chicken blood before erupting into heatless fire. The shadows recoiled and the narrow exit of the chamber opened. Three cultists immediately rushed it.

Hecate flicked two fingers and the man behind me made a wet choking sound and dropped. I grabbed the closest one near me and threw her through the gap myself.

She didn't make it far. As soon as she hit the ground, shadows wrapped around her ankle and snapped her back. Hecate hadn't even bothered looking in her direction. Her eyes were on me now, the irritation from the rooster replaced with fury.

I pulled a paper charm from my coat and rubbed my thumb across the writing. The characters burned away as I fed mana into them. Fire rushed across the floor, separating the room in half and isolating Hecate.

Hecate walked through the flames like they were a curtain. I had seen plenty of demons shrug off wards before but there was always at least some sign that doing so was unpleasant. Hecate just kept walking, turning her wrist as the shadows continued consuming the room.

“Stop killing them!” I fired. The first round struck her shoulder, second hit just below her collarbone. Silver-jacketed, prayer etched, dipped in holy water and cleansed with incense. Bureau ammo was passed around numerous denominations and packed with enough consecrated powder to make sure the dead died twice.

Hecate's body jerked with the impacts. She touched one of the holes in her dress and rubbed the blood between two fingers. Her expression changed just enough to tell me whatever was happening next was probably going to hurt.

I activated another sigil and the blast hit Hecate square in the chest. This time she struck the far wall with enough force to crack the concrete around her. She cracked her neck and raised one hand.

I felt my own spell gathering around her palm before she sent it back at me. It was far stronger than when I'd thrown it, and when it hit the opposite wall, the ceiling came down. Dust swallowed the chamber as old rebar tore loose and several tons of concrete crashed down. I reinforced my body before the first slab hit, but the spell only kept me alive. By the time I crawled free, coughing dust and blood, most of the chamber had disappeared beneath rubble.

A few hands and pieces of ceremonial robes stuck out between broken slabs. Anyone the collapse hadn't killed had been finished by the shadows still moving through the dust. Hecate stood in the middle of it.

She watched me with the expression of someone mildly curious why a broken toy had started moving again. I drew another sigil and a spear of blue light tore toward her. Hecate swatted it aside like an annoying fly.

The spell punched through the wall hard enough to shower us both in more dust. My next bright idea was to rush her. She caught my wrist, twisted once and something in my arm cracked. Not satisfied with just leaving me a broken arm, she drove her knee into my ribs and threw me across the chamber.

I landed near the remains of the altar. Solomon's Band lay beneath a piece of broken concrete.

Hecate walked toward me slowly. “You're not done yet, are you?”

I pushed myself upright with one arm. “I always make sure a lady is satisfied before I finish.”

She smiled, then hit me again. No magic or shadows this time, she was doing it for personal enjoyment. I tried to block but with a broken arm and a bunker fallen on me, I was a bit slow. I reached for a charm but she slapped my hand away before I could activate it. After another few seconds of that, she grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground.

She pressed me against the wall and studied my face with open satisfaction. “You made me bleed.” Her other hand pressed into my chest, nails sharp as knives. “I hope now you understand your place.” I grabbed her wrist. She laughed, mostly because I was still trying. “I think I will take my time with you,” she said.

Her fingers dug into my throat and I could feel myself begin to lose consciousness. My free hand found Solomon's Band beneath the rubble. Hecate felt me move but didn't bother stopping me. As far as she was concerned, she already knew how this ended.

I swung the Band around her neck and slammed the clasp shut with a click. The hexagram burned red.

* * *

“And then,” Hecate said, “you lost consciousness.”

She stayed seated next to me, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting against her hand. The amber Band still sitting around her throat was the only evidence that I'd won anything at all.

“I was getting there.”

“You were about to imply some triumph.”

“I put the collar on you, didn’t I?”

“After I broke your arm, cracked three ribs, buried you beneath your own magic and held you against a wall while you struggled to remain conscious.”

Watanabe looked down at the preliminary medical assessment in front of him. “Four ribs.”

Hecate's smile widened. “Four.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Watanabe slowly set his pen down. “For the purposes of this report, Shimizu survived the engagement and successfully secured the artifact.”

Hecate's expression soured immediately. “He fastened a slave's collar around the neck of royalty while I was distracted by the novelty of his continued survival.”

“That is a lot of words to explain retrieval.”

She glanced at me. “I do not care that you are a trained mutt.” Her mood continued to worsen as she touched the Band. “When this is removed, I intend to peel the skin from your body slowly enough that you remain capable of begging through most of it.”

Watanabe picked up his pen again. “Is that a credible threat?”

“I wouldn’t mind doing it in front of an audience.”

Watanabe stared at me. “Absolutely,” I said. He wrote something down.

Hecate leaned forward. “And still he speaks to me with such disrespect.”

Watanabe ignored the comment and turned to another page in the folder. Dead cultists, a wrecked wartime heritage site, a supernatural entity sitting in a government interrogation room, and Solomon's Band activated instead of safely back in storage. There were most definitely careers that had ended over less. Mine had survived worse, minus acquiring a princess. “You're going on administrative leave,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. I always pegged you as a kind boss.”

“I’m not.” Watanabe folded his hands over the report. “Full medical evaluation in the morning. After that, two weeks away from active operations while Internal Review decides how many regulations you violated in Tateyama.”

“They may need more time to get an accurate count.”

Hecate made a dismissive sound. “Excellent. Then he is available.”

Both of us looked at her. She had decided the matter was settled and sat there looking smug. It was worth risking another broken arm to slug her. “I require a bath, proper clothing, food prepared by the finest chef you mortals can find, and accommodations appropriate to my dignity. Those are the immediate concerns. Afterward, Kazuma will take me to the palace in the sea.”

Watanabe looked at me again. “The what?”

“The illuminated structure we passed on our journey here. There were signs for it along the road. A great island raised by mortal hands in the middle of the water.”

It took me a moment. “Oh, Christ.”

Hecate's eyes narrowed. “Do not invoke another god while I am speaking.”

“Umihotaru?” Watanabe asked.

She sat a little straighter at the name, which apparently confirmed everything she had imagined. “Yes. That one.”

I rubbed the side of my face with my good hand. “It's a rest area.”

Hecate answered with a dismissive ‘Hmph’ and began inspecting her nails.

“A parking area in Tokyo Bay,” I added. “Restaurants, souvenir shops, bathrooms. People stop there because they've been driving too long.”

“You constructed an island in the sea and crowned it with lights merely so travelers might relieve themselves?”

“Once upon a time, Japan had a good economy.”

She clicked her tongue. “I will inspect this… Umihotaru personally.”

“I should be in a hospital.”

“You remain irritatingly alive.”

“Sir, I would like to suggest you give her to someone else.”

“I am not a thing to be given to anyone,” Hecate said. “I am Princess of the Dead. Your superior may assign you as my attendant if he wishes, or you can simply release me.”

“Attendant?”

Watanabe nodded at that. “That might actually work in the paperwork.”

“Sir.”

He acted like that was agreement instead of protest and flipped to another page. “The oldest accounts say Solomon's Ring allowed its bearer to bind spirits and demons and bend them to their will. We don't know how much of what they say is actually true.”

Hecate's chair scraped against the floor as she stood, bracing both hands against the table. “It does not make me his servant.”

“My apologies, Princess,” he said. “That wasn't my intention.”

I lifted my arm in the sling slightly. “Have someone else attend to her,” I suggested again.

Watanabe looked at both of us. “You two will really enjoy administrative leave. Shimizu, the translations describe the person who closes the Band as the one holding Solomon's authority. We have no idea whether that relationship can be transferred or what happens when it is removed.” He closed the file and tapped it on the desk. “Until we understand what you activated in Tateyama, she stays with you. You are the only person we know she cannot kill and the only person the Band currently obeys.”

“Tch.” I pushed myself out of the chair, and my body immediately went back to screaming in pain.

Hecate watched me wince, then walked toward the door, suddenly stopping like she forgot something. “My clothing will be replaced before we visit the sea palace.”

“Rest area,” I groaned.

“Good. Then they should know what is expected after a long trip. If you intend to keep me here, then I expect you to be a good little servant and prove that even mortals can evolve past cattle in a few thousand years.”

Watanabe opened the door for us. “Get some sleep, Kazuma.”

“I was planning on overdosing on morphine.”

Hecate passed him into the corridor. “He may rest tonight. Afterward, he will take me to Umihotaru.”

Watanabe looked at me. “You're officially on leave.”

“Bastard,” I said under my breath.

We got back on the elevator and began our ascent.

“When this comes off, Kazuma Shimizu, I am going to make your death an event remembered in the underworld.”

“After Umihotaru?”

Hecate took a moment to contemplate the question. The gates of hell apparently kept sarcasm out. “After.”

“Good. I'd hate to ruin your itinerary.”

The Imperial Army had been very clear about the shame of captivity.

What the Senjinkun hadn't mentioned was what to do when captivity followed you home.